


Maybe We'll Live and Learn (Maybe We'll Crash and Burn)

by senoritablack



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), the walking
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Nervousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2198379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senoritablack/pseuds/senoritablack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A first kiss ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe We'll Live and Learn (Maybe We'll Crash and Burn)

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write fluffy, embarrassed and completely besotted Rickyl.

It’s been a full two minutes or so of silence.

Daryl is hot in the neck and Rick has his knuckles between his teeth. They’re turning red the harder he pulls at them.

"Look, I’m sorry if I, " he stops short. He hums. His throat is closing up on him, soon to choke him with how dry his mouth is now. 

"…if I over stepped a boundary,” Rick finishes eventually.

Daryl probably shakes his head too fast. _No_. He’s scanning, without moving his head, the not even foot of difference between them on his cell cot even though he could feel it alright enough.  Both their knees threaten to touch, and instead of swinging his legs that much closer, he clenches his hands.  

"No, it…you didn’t do…" Daryl can feel his palms start a round of the sweats that he knows ain’t got nothing to do with the Georgia heat.

"I didn’t?" Rick, biting his fingers swollen, looks up from where his eyes shot pointedly anyway and everywhere but Daryl. Rick looks up and he’s taking his hands out his mouth and laying them as calmly as the shakes’ll allow him to on his thighs. Its already at the worlds end, he don’t got nothing to be afraid of, do he?

Daryl knows what he wants to say, hell, he damn near said it already. Just the finishing part he needs, right? _This ain’t me._ Really, this never been him. Pre end of the world Daryl’d of told the man on his bed to get the hell away, and not before he gave ‘im a splotchy and painful parting gift. Old Daryl’d probably freak the fuck out, is the thing, ‘cause he ain’t ever had to deal with _those_ feelings. S’Like he been living some terminal condition, or something, but he didn’t always get the symptoms. Old Daryl’d sit days alone in bottle and cigarette smoke, asking _who the fuck this guy was to go and kill a man like that_. But Rick ain’t just some guy, and he knows it. Shit, he’s been willing to risk himself for Rick for a long time now.

Daryl’s breathing picks up with the realization.

"Didn’t what?" He only pushes because Daryl is too still and it’s dividing the all the parts of himself he wrestled into uniting against a group of militant butterflies floating around his terrorist of a stomach. It’s taking all he’s got, he’s means, and when he shifts his body as to fully face Daryl, it don’t get any easier. You’d think it be a walk in the park, he’d been trained to deal with confrontation and he’s gotten pretty used to keeping his eyes on Daryl in general, so he’s not understanding why the two skills aren’t working to his benefit. Betrayal is all he feels now. That and scared out his mind, watching his still too still friend’s eyes dance back and forth below half drawn lids and bite the inside of his cheeks - or so Rick assumes, seeing the way Daryl’s cheeks concave. Then Rick sees another sign of life, or that Daryl’s breathing is probably as labored as his’ right now. The thought alone puts him at ease, strangely enough, ‘cause maybe that meant Daryl’s heart is thudding just as erratically as his own too.

"You didn’t do nothin’ I wasn’t thinkin’ of doin’ myself." Daryl says it and he says it like a challenge. He hadn’t meant for it to come out in a string of grunts and he’s getting the inside of his cheeks pretty good with his teeth in embarrassment. _Fuck._

 _You didn’t do nothin’ I wasn’t thinkin’ of doin’ myself._ He says it with a very pronounced furrow of his brows, while his arms twitch like they were to cross. They don’t and Rick smiles because if he laughed now he knows Daryl’d misinterpret it.

"Yeah?" Rick asks in an octave unfamiliar to his usually drawl. He’s only ever done _that_ with three other people before in his life. And he’s not a cocky man or anything, but they didn’t respond with minutes of silence, so he reason that he has the right to be nervous this time, letting himself finally feel _it_.

Dropping his dead down between his shoulders, trying to hide his smile, Daryl sobers enough to pull Rick in by the collar of paid shirt. He answers with a kiss that’s a fucked up mixture of teeth and sandpaper chins, but its good and it’s only the second.

“Just caught off guard, is all.”  Daryl says against Ricks lips. Rick laughs this time, then it’s him bringing them together for a third.

“We doing this?” Daryl murmurs, moans, and breathes heavy through his nose. He’s looking for doubt in Rick’s eyes and can’t find it.

“Tonight, Dare, I don’t think is the night for this conversation. I’ve already embarrassed myself as is and I’d like if we could chalk it up to what we’re doing, right now, ‘cause I’ma admit I’m enjoying myself.” Rick chuckles. “What do you say?” he says, kissing a spot below Daryl’s left hear. “Maybe we could take it slow?” 

“Mm” Daryl agrees, pulling Rick on top of him. “Take it slow.”


End file.
